


Take a Chance on Me

by MotherGoddamn, Rebness



Category: Glee
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-10
Updated: 2013-08-14
Packaged: 2017-12-23 01:35:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/920449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MotherGoddamn/pseuds/MotherGoddamn, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rebness/pseuds/Rebness
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s Senior Year, and Dave Karofsky has spent the summer thinking long and hard about Kurt Hummel. Can one party change their relationship? [AU Alt. Season 3]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Take a Chance On Me  
Part 1**

  
  
  
‘Kurt!’   
  
Dave saw a flash of red and, Christ,  _canary yellow_  pants moving to the side and slipping through the crowd. Maybe he hadn’t heard. ‘Hey, Kurt!’ he shouted louder, shoving a Freshman out of the way. ‘KURT!’  
  
Okay, he’d definitely looked back  _that_  time. Dave had seen him! His face all snooty and his lips twisted in a sneer just at the sight of Dave. What the hell? It was 9am and the first day of term! Dave hadn’t had time to piss anyone off yet.  
  
Well, unless you were counting all that stuff from last year. Which, yeah, Kurt probably was. Heartfelt apology or not, those things probably tended to eat away at you. Which was why Dave wanted to speak to him, before this whole year began again.   
  
He just wanted the chance to clear the air so they could get on with their lives without one worrying about the other: Kurt worrying about Dave slamming his face into a locker and Dave worrying about what he was going to see whenever those eyes landed on him in the corridor. You know, fear could be addictive. It was great to play the big man, watching the younger, smaller kids tremble in his wake. He'd only recently learned that fear and respect were two completely different things.   
  
‘Kurt!’ Dave grabbed at the other boy’s shoulder, spinning him round to face him. Kurt’s eyes flashed as they first stared at Dave’s arm and then into his face. The fire in them was enough to make Dave pull back and shove his hands into his jeans. ‘Kurt, hey. I was yelling.’  
  
‘Were you? I didn’t notice.’ Kurt widened his eyes and moved his head in a  _go on_  motion.   
  
Dave gritted his teeth and forced his face into a smile. He thought maybe he and Kurt had come to some sort of understanding before the summer, maybe that Kurt had started to see he was trying. Judging from the way that Kurt was glaring at him, he was wrong.  
  
‘How was—your break?’ Dave nodded, a little too enthusiastically. ‘Your summer! I want to know how it was.’  
  
Kurt paused. ‘It was fine,’ he said after a moment. Some of the aloofness eased and Dave sighed with relief. He realised he‘d been holding his breath. ‘I’ve had better but, yes, overall. It was good. You?’  
  
‘Awesome!’  _Okay, dial it down a notch, Dave_. ‘Just really fucking great.’ Or dial it  _up_ , you idiot. ‘I didn’t really do much. Just hung with Azimio. Went fishing with my dad.’  
  
‘And did you and your dad talk about anything? I mean, while you were fishing?’  
  
‘Yes. Fish.’  
  
‘That wasn’t what I mea—‘  
  
‘Bait? Rivers? Tackle? ’  
  
‘What? No, I mean—‘  
  
‘I know what you mean!’ Dave sighed, irritated. ‘No, he doesn’t know. Not yet. Why the hell should I rush into this? It was six freakin’ weeks, Kurt. Did you think you were going to come back to me draped in a rainbow flag and cradling Madonna’s greatest hits?’  
  
Kurt shook his head and gave a bitter laugh. ‘Believe it or not, I had my own life to lead this summer, Karofsky. I didn’t give much thought to you at all!’ Kurt flinched at his own tone and his face softened. ‘It’s your life. I just wondered is all.’  
  
‘The next PFLAG’s meeting on Thursday,’ Dave blurted. ‘Are you going?’  
  
‘I’ve missed a few,’ Kurt murmured. ‘Hang on, you’ve been  _going_?’  
  
‘That was our deal.’ Dave shrugged. ‘I don’t welch on a deal.’  
  
‘Right, right.’ Kurt chewed his lower lip and Dave’s gaze fought the urge to follow it devotedly. ‘Then, yes, I’ll be there. I guess.’  
  
That was stage one. Talk to Hummel without tears, inappropriate advances or shoving his face into an urinal. Now for stage two.  
  
‘Look, I was just wondering, you know, if you want,’ Dave rubbed at the back of his neck, his stare fixed to Kurt’s chin, ‘after the next meeting, we could maybe catch a movie. Something where a chick with a fat ass gets the guy, because she’s mental or something. ‘  
  
‘What?’ Kurt asked, his voice shocked.  
  
‘Oh, fuck sorry. Some curvy--’ Dave made speech marks with his fingers, 'loud woman gets the guy because she’s kooky and falls over a lot.’  
  
‘Are you—are you asking me out?’  
  
Something twisted roughly in Dave’s guy and he winced. No, this wasn’t a date. Just like, a friends thing. Friends went to the movies all the time. And hell, Dave was short on friends at the moment.  
  
‘In your very wet dreams, Garland.’   
  
‘ _You_  want to take  _me_  to see a romantic comedy.’ Kurt raised his eyebrows ‘Kinda sounds like a date.’  
  
‘Keep your voice down!’ Dave hissed, glaring at Jacob Israel who quite rightly leapt into a locker in his haste to get away. ‘It’s the movies, not a freakin’ Pride parade.’  
  
Kurt pressed his lips together and watched Dave’s face for a moment, seemingly searching for the catch. Evidently not finding one , he sighed and shook his head. ‘No, Dave. I’m really proud of the way that you’re doing all of this, and the Bully Whips etc and when you’re ready to come out, I’ll support you but—‘ Kurt looked genuinely regretful. ‘But I don’t want you to confuse that with some kind of friendship, Karofsky. You—There’s still a lot of bad blood between us.’  
  
Well. That hurt a hell of a lot more than he expected. And what the hell  _had_  he expected? After everything they had been through already, why had he been playing this scenario repeatedly in his head since Prom? In his mind Kurt had been reluctant, but Dave had charmed him round (Dave was always on key in his head) and convinced him to go. They went to the movies, sharing popcorn and laughing at something dumb, most probably not the film since Cameron Diaz was probably stinking it up and then their hands would brush and—  
  
 _Wake the fuck up, Dave._  
  
‘—complicate things and—‘ What? Kurt was still on this?  
  
‘Whatever, Hummel,’ Dave shrugged. ‘I wasn’t wanting to whisk you off to New York. Calm yourself.’  
  
A muscle twitched in his cheek and Kurt smile icily. ‘Fine.’  
  
‘Yeah, good.’ Dave turned to stalk off in the opposite direction but stopped on mid heel spin.   
  
‘Wait, is that your—‘  
  
Kurt followed the direction of his stare and openly winced. ‘Yes, that would be Blaine. Here. At McKinley.’ Kurt nodded. ‘Isn’t that  _great?_ ’  
  
‘Did—I—he transferred?’ Dave couldn’t stop staring at the boy who was making his way towards them with Puckerman at his side. ‘Just like that?’  
  
‘Yes. Just like that.’ Kurt wasn’t returning Brylcreem’s grin and Dave wondered at the little spark of hope that jumped up in his gut.   
  
‘So, like—to be with you and shit? That is so  _weird!_ ’  
  
‘Thanks for that, Karofsky, but no. It wasn’t for me.’ Kurt smiled almost sweetly. ‘In fact, we aren’t even  _together_  anymore so—'  
  
‘Wait, Polly Pocket dumped your ass?’   
  
‘You should run some sort of talk show. You clearly have the sensitivity and tact of Oprah and Ricki rolled into one,’ Kurt said. ‘Blaine’s here to fight  _personal demons_  or something. We haven’t really talked since—‘ Kurt blushed. ‘We just haven’t talked, that’s all.’  
  
‘But why did you—‘  
  
‘Shut  _up_ ,’ Kurt hissed as they sidled up next to them. ‘Hey, hey,’ he smiled at Blaine, shyly. ‘Hey.’  
  
'Hey,' said Blaine. He glanced at Dave and gave him a bland smile.   
  
'Ladies,' said Puck severely.   
  
'So how are things, Blaine?' asked Kurt.  
  
'Fine. New school, taking a look around, networking, all that jazz. Puck's showing me around.' Blaine gave Puck a warm smile; Dave was amused to see Kurt narrow his eyes in response. Well, sort of amused.   
  
'I didn't think you'd be interested in helping,' said Kurt icily.   
  
‘Well, duh. It's Pascal's Triangle in math today,' said Puck with a shrug. ‘I don’t do triangles. I thought I’d made this clear when they tried to shove that trigonometry propaganda down my throat. Two months -- two months of my goddamn life wasted on three fucking lines!’ He reached into his pocket and pulled out a Twinkie, biting into it savagely. ‘I couldn’t eat pie for the longest time, unless it was in squares. And  _then_  they tried to force pi down my throat.’  
  
‘But why would they do that?’ asked Blaine, horrified. ‘Did they think force-feeding you would help?’   
  
Puck frowned. ‘What are you talking about, son?’   
  
For a moment everyone looked at each other one. Then at the floor. Puck coughed.  
  
'So, Kurt!' Blaine said brightly making Puck and Dave jump. 'How was your summer?'  
  
Kurt's eyebrows flew up and several expressions flitted across his face. Dave was willing to bet that he swallowed at least several acidic comments. It seemed Blaine felt the same; he looked uncomfortable.   
  
 _What exactly happened? I wonder if it was like Tom Cruise facing off against Perez Hilton. I wonder if there was fighting. Physical fighting, I mean. And Kurt getting all sweaty and-- stop, Dave! Stop._  
  
‘It was-- fine, thank you.' Kurt smiled tightly. 'Great.'  
  
Blaine nodded. 'Ah, good. Good that it was great, I mean. Yes.'   
  
Puck sighed. 'I am  _so_  glad that I take the other bus. You know, the bus that you guys got off to go on the other bus. Chicks just get angry and then tell everyone you have herpes when you break up with them. Chicks I understand.'   
  
'Thanks for that, Puck,' said Kurt.  
  
'Yes, thanks!' said Blaine. He smiled at Kurt, who positively beamed back.   
  
They were good together, Dave realised. On the same wavelength and stuff. Again, he wondered what had happened between them.   
  
'You know what you losers all need?' said Puck. 'A party. How about it?'  
  
'You're throwing a party?' asked Kurt.  
  
'Totally, but I'd never invite any of you. No offence.'  
  
Blaine shook his head. 'Then why did you ask?'   
  
'Because it's someone else's party I'm inviting you to! Chang's! This Friday.' He turned to Blaine. 'You up for it?'  
  
'Sure! Sounds neat!'   
  
'See, expressions like that are why you'll never darken my home,' said Puck. He turned to Kurt.   
  
'How about you?'   
  
'I guess,' said Kurt. His eyes slid from Puck to Blaine. 'Yeah.'   
  
'Awesome!' Puck grinned. 'This is going to be great. I've invited like the entire school. Chang better be grateful to me.'   
  
'I'm not invited,' said Dave, offended.   
  
Puck froze. 'Oh.'  
  
'Yeah, I can maybe swing by,' he said with a smirk. 'Santana will probably want to check it out.'  
  
'Uh, um. Yeah, be glad to have you.' Puck bit his lip. 'Does this mean you're still with Santana, though?'  
  
Dave didn't miss the way Blaine and Kurt's eyes met at that. 'Yeah, we’re still going together. In fact,’ he glanced at Blaine and Kurt, ‘it’s going awesome.’  
  
Puck scowled. 'Thanks, bro! Now I have to find some other project!'   
  
'You don't want anyone cramping your style,' said Kurt consolingly.  
  
'Actually,' Blaine cleared his throat, his eyes on Kurt. 'There was someone I'd quite like to-- well, bring. If that's okay?'  
  
'Oh?' Kurt pressed a tongue into his cheek. 'A special friend?'  
  
'I--um, I met him at the Tosca production. He was just crying over E Lucian e Stelle and it was the most profound…he seems nice. I…of course, I understand if you'd rather I--'  
  
‘Don‘t be ridiculous. You‘re overestimating my interest, Blaine.’ Kurt inspected his nails. ‘Bring him.'  
  
Now Puck and Dave were the ones sharing the awkward gazes.  
  
'Great! I'm so glad you understand, Kurt!' Blaine smiled wide and clapped Kurt on the shoulder.  
  
Kurt laughed. A little too loudly. ‘I was actually going to bring someone myself. I wasn’t sure, you know, in case it made you uncomfortable--’  
  
‘Oh, no, I’d be fine!’  
  
‘-or something,’ Kurt continued through clenched teeth.  
  
‘You’re bringing someone?’ Dave asked, trying to keep his tongue disinterested.  _Great. Blaine 2.0_. ‘Who?’  
  
‘Just-- Just some guy. That I met in my dad’s garage. In a car.’ Kurt shrugged. ‘You wouldn’t know him.’  
  
‘Kurt! You have to tell me everything!’ Blaine looked delighted and Dave concluded he must eat sunshine and wishes for breakfast because  _damn_.  
  
‘He-- He goes to college. He’s super hot.’ Kurt was getting redder by the second. ‘In fact he’s also a model, you know, in his spare time.’  
  
‘Really?’ Blaine shook his head. ‘He sounds--’  
  
‘Lame. He sounds lame.’ Puck yawned loudly. ‘I actually can’t take any more of this. I’m going to Math. Think about that. I would actually rather be in Math with that fucking triangle than here. With you.’  
  
‘If there’s one thing I like about this school,’ said Blaine, ‘it’s that everyone here says exactly what’s on their mind.’   
  
Dave scowled. ‘You’re such a prick.’   
  


* * *

  
  
'You're l _ate_ ,' said Santana, standing up. She’d been sitting on the low wall outside Chang’s house. She glanced at her cell. 'If my mascara's run because I've been waiting in this humidity for you for the past hour, I'm going to crush your balls.’   
  
'Sure you weren't crying bitter, bitter tears over Brittany?' Dave asked, annoyed. Not one word about his smart clothes or his Old Spice scent; he'd made a special effort.   
  
'Aww, what's the matter?' she asked, flicking her hair. 'Have you had another wet dream about Tom Cruise? Which one was it this time? The unicorn?'   
  
'Careful, sugar tits,' he said in an undertone, following her up the path to Chang's house, 'none of your brilliant wit here.' He put his arm around her and gave her a very enthusiastic hug. Perhaps a little  _too_  enthusiastic: she began to choke.   
  
'Hey, Tito el bambino!' she sneered, pushing his chin away, hard. 'That's  _just_  what this party needs! Some closet macho posturing.'   
  
'You're doing a swell job yourself!' said Dave, patting her on the shoulder.   
  
‘Just try to blend in, okay?’ She slipped her hair over her shoulder. ‘Hunch or something.’  
  
Taking a deep breath, he paused at the threshold. 'Ready?'  
  
'I'm always ready.' She pulled him in.  
  


* * *

  
  
Santana had ditched him within minutes. They'd done the token mingling, pretending to be all over one another, and then of course that dimwit Brittany had been dancing a little too close to Tina for Santana's liking and now there was some embarrassing Glee Club dance-off going on in the den.   
  
Dave made his way to the kitchen: time for some crappy beer to drown out these morons. Aw, shit. Total downer. Hummel was in there, looking lost.  _For a change._  
  
He picked up a beer and handed one to Kurt. 'I know it's not a Daiquiri but maybe it'll cheer you up,' he murmured.  
  
'Not now, Dave,' said Kurt. 'I'm not in the mood for your verbal assaults.' He put the bottle down and continued to stare at the other room.   
  
Dave followed his gaze. Of course, it was Blaine he was looking at.  _But why? He looks more like Alf the Alien than ever with that stupid damned 80s sweater._  
  
'He's so happy,' whispered Kurt, almost inaudibly. 'I hate it.'   
  
'But why do you even care?'   
  
'I don't,' said Kurt, frowning. 'What makes you think I do? I'm happy. I'm at a  _party_ , aren't I?'   
  
'And your shoes aren't accustomed to this hard concrete?' asked Dave.   
  
'Mmm,' said Kurt.   
  
Dave was both offended and concerned. Offended because that had been a solid joke, concerned because it was simply not like Kurt to miss a good pop culture reference.   
  
'Look, do you--' he began, but Kurt was already marching over to Blaine.   
  
With a sigh, he followed.   
  


* * *

  
  
‘Hey, Kurt!’ Blaine said happily as they walked up to him. ‘This is Parker.’ He turned to the guy next to him. ‘And this is, uh, Dave.’  
  
Parker frowned. ‘Wait, the one that--’  
  
‘So! Kurt!’ Blaine cried. ‘Where’s the date?’  
  
'Outside.'  
  
'Outside?'  
  
'Yes, outside,' said Kurt, annoyed. 'That's where I said.'   
  
'But what's he doing outside?'  
  
'He's... meditating.'   
  
'Mediating? I see,' said Blaine.   
  
 _Condescending prick_ , thought Dave.  _I should punch him right through the wall and let him_  meditate  _about that._  
  
'You wouldn't understand him,' said Kurt. 'He's studying Taxonomic groups.'   
  
'Really?' asked Parker. 'I'm studying Zoology myself! What a small world.'  
  
'Maybe,' said Kurt, 'but he's studying taxes, like, financial stuff. So way better than what you do.'   
  
'But...'   
  
‘You heard him,’ said Dave, towering over Parker. ‘Over  _your_  head.’   
  
Parker raised an eyebrow at Blaine, who looked away politely. Parker began to snigger.   
  
Kurt, furious, turned and stalked away. Dave quickly followed, ignoring Blaine’s confused voice calling after them.  
  
‘Kurt,’ Dave began reaching as he entered the kitchen. ‘You alright?’  
  
‘I don’t need your help, Dave! You’re the  _last_  person I need help from.’  
  
‘Don’t take it out on me that Preppy brought Kelly Kapowski, Screech.’  
  
‘What are you even--’ Kurt went to grab at his hair, remembered it was full of products and dropped them to his sides in fists. ‘Just go away!’  
  
‘Why?’ Dave crossed his arms. ‘In case George Glass comes in and gets jealous?’  
  
‘ _Who are all these people!_ ’ Kurt turned and began to mix a drink angrily. ‘Look. Stop following me around, you shaved bear. Go find your  _girlfriend_  or something.’  
  
‘I was trying to be knowing and postmodern; I know how you like that shit. But fine. Whatever. You try to be fucking nice to a guy who goes around moping because some idiot who never deserved him dumped his ass! Try and be his wingman. Well, I don’t need it.'  
  
Snatching up the drink that Kurt had just finished mixing, Dave turned and headed out to the party.  
  
‘Wait--’ called Kurt.  
  
‘Just shut up,’ he called back over his shoulder.  
  
 _Fuck you, Kurt Hummel._  
  


* * *

  
  
Dave moved through the party, trying to find a clique he could slip into easily. No, not Hudson and Berry. He wasn’t drunk enough to suffer  _that_. Maybe the Goth chick and Chang, uh no, he was dragging her out with a quirk in his eyebrow and Dave wasn’t joining  _that_  scene. Maybe in College. Okay, he didn’t know any fucking body here.   
  
Finding a wall that didn’t bear him a grudge, he leant against it and looked out into the sea of faces. That Blaine kid was clearly into the hot guy that he’d brought with him. Every time the guy opened his mouth, Blaine would throw back his head and laugh like a drain, while his date just looked confused, if slightly pleased.  _This must be killing Kurt_ , Dave thought,  _he had been really into him_. Quickly, Dave sought him out in the crowd, his mouth running dry when he was found.  
  
Instead of lying on the floor in a heap of tears and unrequited love, Kurt was laughing just as hard as Blaine, and flirting with some blond snub nosed fuck.  
  
 _Who the hell is that loser?_  
  
Dave could feel the paper cup crushing in his fingers as liquid began to spill over onto the floor. The blond was leaning into Kurt now, his hand pressed tight against his lip and his mouth to his ear. Kurt’s face curved into a self conscious smile and he nodded slowly.  
  
A pure red hot rage burned up Dave’s chest and seemed to explode in his head. Jealousy. Oh, God. Dave was jealous! Over someone touching Kurt fucking Hummel. This was not good, this was a fucking disaster. And the blond was  _still touching him._  
  
Dave began to move away from the edge of the crowd and towards the pair. He wasn’t going to say anything. Just, you know, see what was going down. Mingle, like Santana had yelled at him before running off with Brittany. Well! He was going to mingle all over this kid’s face.  
  
That either sounded really menacing or really sexual, Dave was a little far gone to decide.  
  
‘—can’t believe the fag’s falling for it,’ a voice laughed at his side and Dave stopped dead, eyes searching out the speaker. Backed up in the corner was a group of leering guys. It took Dave a moment to recognise them, Big Mesa High kids. McKinley had played them a few times last season. God knew who had invited them.  
  
‘He won’t do it! I bet you fifty bucks, he won’t!’ A nasally voice insisted. Four of them stared over the other side of the room, their faces a mixture of delight and disgust. ‘There is no way he is going to kiss him!’  
  
‘Hey, it’s a forfeit. That’s the rule. Maybe next time he’ll down the damn thing in time.’  
  
 _What the fuck? A forfeit?_  
  
Dave looked at Kurt, at his eyes lighting up. The way his head was tilted and his lips slightly parted. There was a rich pink flush in his cheeks that could have been put there by drink but Dave knew better. He was happy, enjoying himself. He was _excited_. In his head, Dave could hear the change in Figgins’ voice as he read out Kurt’s name Prom night. The realisation, disdain and regret as he had broken Kurt’s heart in front of a crowd. Dave remembered Kurt’s face.  
  
He couldn’t see that again. He just couldn’t.  
  
Dave closed the distance in mere seconds, shoving himself in between the two. ‘Beat it,’ he snarled.  
  
‘Karofsky!’ Kurt squeaked indignantly. ‘What are you—‘  
  
‘You deaf? Walk the fuck back over to your friends and then get the hell out of our party.’  
  
The kid licked his lips, his eyes darting between the two. Slowly, he assessed Dave’s bulk and the fact that he looked mad enough to kill a car with his face, and began to back away, his hands raised.   
  
When he was far enough for Dave to be satisfied, he turned back to Kurt. Who looked ready to remove his kidneys. With his teeth.  
  
‘What the hell are you doing? I cannot believe that you just humila—‘  
  
‘Hey! Queers!’ Kid’s flirting friend had found his voice, and apparently it was all the way over there on the other side of the room. ‘Suck this!’ Dave and Kurt were treated to the sight of the blond grabbing his crotch and gyrating as his friends laughed and high fived each other.  
  
‘Oh,’ Kurt nodded, his ears turning pink. ‘I—I get it.’   
  
‘It’s not exactly high brow shit.’ Dave waited for the fear to lace into his skin, he had just been called a queer in public, after all, but curiously, nothing came. Just a dull, sad feeling as he watched Kurt’s face slowly merge from confused, to hurt, to resigned. ‘Hey, man. Come on. You don’t care about stupid shit like that, do you?’  
  
But Kurt was already shaking his head and moving through the crowd, his walk ungainly for once. Drink or shock, Dave didn’t know. But he wasn’t going to bail this time. With a hard glance at the hollering jackasses, he flew after him


	2. Chapter 2

**Take a Chance On Me  
Part 2**

  
  
‘Come on, open the door. There’s just me here.’ Dave checked around him, just to make sure. Kurt had sprinted up onto the second floor and managed to find a bathroom where the corridor wasn’t lined with comatose teenagers. Dave knocked at the wood again. ‘Kurt, this is stupid.’  
  
‘Just go away, Karofsky!’ Kurt’s thin voice snapped from the other side. ‘I’m not your charity case.’  
  
‘No one said—For fuck’s sake. It was Big Mesa High! Who cares what they think about anything?’ Dave pounded harder now. ‘If you don’t come out I’ll sing  _Henry VIII I am_ , until—‘ The door flung open.  
  
‘You did not just threaten me with a reference from  _Ghost_!’ A red eyed Kurt stayed up at him, the tiniest of smiles playing on his lips.  
  
‘Swayze was the fucking  _man_ , I love that movie.’  
  
Kurt nodded. ‘Ditto.’ He stepped back with a sigh. ‘Fine, you can come in.’  
  
Dave moved past him. ‘You know you don’t live here, Hum---‘ Dave broke off on seeing the size of the room. ‘Although you totally could! This is huge!’  
  
‘Yes, I—‘  
  
‘Look! They’ve even got the mini sink for spraying your ass!’  
  
‘It’s all terribly exciting, I know.’ Kurt rolled his eyes, closing the door. Eyes downcast he made his way over to the bath and sank down, wrapping his arms around his knees.  
  
‘Hey,’ Dave walked over and sat down next to him. ‘Seriously, they’re just assholes. I don’t even know what they’re doing here.’  
  
Kurt laughed and rubbed at his eyes. ‘There’re people like that everywhere, Dave. Until last year you were one of them.’ His voice softened. ‘You know what, maybe you should just stay in that closet of yours. It’s better.’  
  
‘Are you fucking kidding me? What happened to I am what I am, and all that shit? You’re supposed to be the poster child for be yourself and you’re telling me to stay in the closet?’ Dave stared at him. ‘Over a bunch of drunk dickless homophobes?’  
  
‘I’m just so tired. Tired of it all. Tired of being constantly looked down, judged. Of never getting what I want. I just—‘ Kurt wiped at his face again. ‘I’m tired.’  
  
‘No, you’re not. Well, all right. You probably are. But being drunk and feeling sorry for yourself because of those pricks isn’t going to help anyone. Look, I have it on good authority that you’re amazing.’   
  
‘No you don’t.’  
  
‘I do. Someone put the video of Finn singing it to you on Youtube. He’s such a dick.’   
  
‘Shut up,’ Kurt said but there was no malice. He was even smiling a little now.   
  
‘So, why did you and Blaine break up?’ Dave phrased it casually, his eyes anywhere other than Kurt’s but he held his breath for the answer.  
  
‘I’m not—It was—Oh, I can’t!’ Kurt blushed. ‘It’s embarrassing!’  
  
Dave paled. ‘It’s his penis, isn’t it? It’s huge. Oh, my God. It wouldn’t fit!’ Fuck Dave’s life. How could he compete with that? Not that he had a micro penis or anything but Blaine could probably do press ups with his and, like, fight crime. Why do good looking guys get all the goddamn luck? Couldn’t God have just knocked a few inches off his cock like he had his height? And—  
  
‘—perfectly normal size,  _thank you_ ,’ Kurt’s face was practically on fire now. ‘Not that I, er, saw it much.’  
  
‘So, you two didn’t,’ Dave twirled a finger, ‘seal the deal.’  
  
Kurt pressed his lips together and looked away.  
  
‘So, you did?’ Images flooded Dave’s mind and he had to reach behind him and grab the tub to anchor himself.   
  
‘Fine!’ Kurt snapped. ‘I haven’t even told Mercedes this. Be privileged.’ Kurt turned so that he was facing Dave, his face mere inches away. ‘We did it once. It wasn’t like in the movies. It was—It was  _horrible.’_  
  
‘Horrible?’  
  
‘Everything that could wrong did. It was supposed to be romantic and beautiful, and—then the candles nearly burnt the place down. Blaine accidentally kneed me in the face,  _twice_ , and then—,’Kurt covered his face with his hands. ‘Something got stuck where it shouldn’t have got stuck.’  
  
Dave had never been more riveted in his life. ‘Go on.’  
  
‘No! That’s all you are getting of my pathetic love life! Anyway, the next day Blaine freaked. He saw it as a sign that we shouldn’t be together and—thought it best we split up. Find people that were right for us.’  
  
‘Maybe—maybe Blaine was right,’ Dave said, nodding slowly. ‘Think about it, no matter how wrong it was going, you two should have been able to at least laugh about it. Sex is supposed to be fun, you know. Not a military operation.’  
  
‘It wasn’t sex, Dave,’ Kurt hissed. ‘It was making love.’  
  
‘Yeah, no offence, but you got the recipe wrong.’  
  
‘Argh,’ Kurt groaned, ‘trapped in a bathroom with Dr. Phil.’  
  
‘I’m just saying! If you guys were real, than that would have been nothing to overcome.’  
  
Kurt sighed and gave a tiny shrug. ‘Maybe. Maybe will just got a little swept up in it all. I mean, he was the first guy to ever like me, the  _only_  guy and-‘  
  
‘Not the only,’ Dave interrupted glaring at his feet. He could feel his face burning as Kurt’s head snapped towards him.  
  
‘So—sorry?’  
  
‘You know what I mean, Hummel. Don’t make me say it,’ Dave muttered. Why the hell had he even opened his mouth?   
  
‘You mean, what happened in the locker room?’ Kurt gave a little tut. ‘That wasn’t about me, Dave. That was about  _you._ ’  
  
‘What?’ Dave turned now. ‘It couldn’t be both?’  
  
Kurt looked away, his eyes darting back and forth. Dave wanted to turn back time to stop his fat trap from ever agreeing to coming to this stupid party. Or inviting himself. Whatever.  
  
‘Dave, I—‘ Kurt placed a hand on his shoulder. ‘I don’t know what to say.’  
  
'Can I ask you something?' said Dave. 'Why  _him_?'   
  
'Why what?'  
  
'Why did you ever go with him? Okay, so he's handsome in a vague alien way, and he's suave and he's sometimes quite funny and... I've just answered my own question.'  
  
'Yes,' said Kurt. ‘But like you said, it wasn’t real. It wasn’t enough.’  
  
‘Do you think you might ever--’ Dave closed his eyes, not wanting the answer. ‘I mean, maybe one day, you and me could--’  
  
‘Don‘t. Please.‘ Kurt rubbed at his eyes tiredly. 'Dave, did you ever see  _A Streetcar Named Desire?'_  
  
'Do I look gay?'  
  
Kurt blinked.  
  
'I haven't!'   
  
'It’s-- I was just thinking. Stella,' murmured Kurt. 'She tells Blanche -- she says that there are things that people do in the dark that make everything else irrelevant.' Kurt looked off, his face lost in his thoughts.  
  
Dave paused, weighing his words. 'I  _think_  I understand.'  
  
'Yes,' said Kurt sadly. 'But that’s not  _me_ , Dave.'  
  
'But why can't I help make things irrelevant?'  
  
'Because...' Kurt considered. 'I don't know. You're a bit too Stanley for me. I don't want to be a cracked mirror.'  
  
'What?'  
  
'That's why you need to see it,’ he smiled softly. ‘And no Cliff's notes.'  
  
‘Kurt.’ Dave licked at his lips. ‘I like you,’ Dave said so the words came out as one. ‘Okay? I have done for awhile. Before I even  _knew_  I liked you. All I knew was that I was always thinking about you, looking out for you. When I didn’t see you I would walk the long way to lessons just to get a look at you.’  
  
‘And to throw me into the nearest available surface.’  
  
Dave shook his head. ‘I know that you will never be able to look at me as anything other than the bully. The asshole that made your life hell, but I promise you that I will never hurt you like that again. Or let you be hurt. I don’t want to throw you into a cracked mirror!’  
  
‘Dave—‘  
  
‘I’m just so fucking sorry, Kurt. I hope you can one day see that and forgive me because—‘ Oh, God. Actual tears now.  _Tears_. What was the matter with him? Why wouldn’t his mouth quit? ‘You’re the best thing in my life right now and you’re just an extra in the background most days. I feel better just having seen you! I‘m not this fucking Stanley, okay? I don‘t want to be that guy anymore! And I don‘t want you to be someone else, either. I just want to be me. The real me. And for you to be you. Why does it have to be so hard? Why am I so… why is it so terrifying--‘  
  
‘Shut up!’ It was a whisper but it was enough to silence Dave.   
  
Dave wiped at his face and willed his heartbeat to slow down, his breathing to even out. God, this was mortifying.  
  
‘You really see me like that?’ Kurt asked, tentatively. ‘This isn’t the beer talking? Or some—,‘ his expression darkened, ‘prank?’  
  
‘Do I look like I’m joking?’   
  
‘No, no you don’t.’ Kurt moved closer and Dave’s heart plummeted into his gut. ‘‘Thank you,’ Kurt said, leaning over and pecking demurely at the corner of Dave’s mouth. As he pulled away he stopped, his eyes fixed on Dave’s.   
  
Dave himself was a page behind. Inside his head, he was back-flipping because Kurt’s face had touched his face and it was _awesome._  
  
‘Dave?’   
  
‘Yeah?,’ Dave said, a daffy grin spreading across his mouth. Kurt’s answer was to press his lips to Dave’s, hard and wanting.   
  
A million questions ran though Dave’s head and he ignored them all. Kurt Hummel was kissing him! Kurt Hummel was pushing him backwards onto the floor and  _writhing_  against him. Dave’s hands were dizzy from trying to touch every single part of the other boy as their tongues battled against each other.   
  
Dave moaned as Kurt’s groin pressed up against his. Without thinking, he rolled them so that Kurt’s back was to the floor.  
  
And then froze.  
  
Oh, God. He’d probably scared him or something, Kurt had been in control and now Dave was lumbering all over him and-- Kurt grabbed at his face and kissed him again, his teeth nipping at Dave’s bottom lip.   
  
 _Oh!_  Oh, okay then.  
  
Dave felt the tension melting away as they made out, varying from slow and lazy to desperate and needy. Kurt’s fingers came in between them, his fingers palming at Dave’s hardness. ’Ngh,’ Dave gasped out, articulately. The zip sounded out and Dave felt laughter bubbling up inside of him. No, no. He must not collapse into giggles like some girl, the first time another boy touched his cock. And,  _oh, God_. This was actually happening! Kurt was touching his cock!  
  
‘Can I?’ Dave groaned into Kurt’s neck, his hand resting on his Kurt’s bulge. ‘Please!’  
  
Kurt nodded, his cheek rubbing against Dave’s, the heat comforting and dizzying at the same time. Dave tried to slip his hand down the waistband, but the angle was too awkward. With a deep intake of breath, he lowered the zipper (oh, God, was this really happening?) and slowly released Kurt’s straining cock from the confines of his jeans.   
  
He glanced down, ashamed at the rush of emotion that took hold of him: he felt like weeping. It felt so  _right_. He reached out tentatively and took hold, finally bringing his eyes up to meet Kurt’s gaze. He ran his fingers slowly over the surface of throbbing heat in his hands. Oh God, it felt  _so right_. Was it because it was this was his first time of holding someone else like this or was it because it was  _Kurt_?   
  
‘Dave,’ Kurt murmured, and he moved closer, his senses aflame.   
  
Dave gripped at Kurt’s cock, spreading the pre-come from the tip around his palm. ‘Is this--’  
  
‘Yes!’ Kurt bucked upward. ‘Just keep going!’  
  
Dave began to jerk him off in awkward strokes, his eyes shifting from Kurt’s face to his own blurring hand. ‘Kurt, Kurt,’ he babbled as the pressure began to build up inside of him.  
  
Kurt threw an arm round his neck, moaning and arching up into his hand, as his own sped up on Dave’s. It was too much. It was too fast. It was  _everything._  
  
For a while, the only noises in the room were the soft sounds of skin against skin, and the strained sighing of each boy. Then Kurt gave an almost pained scream and buried his face in the crook of Dave’s neck, biting with his teeth as his body shuddered out his release. Dave soon followed, throwing back his head as stars clouded his vision.   
  
‘Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck! Fuck,’ he muttered, fighting the urge to collapse on Kurt. Pushing himself up he looked down into Kurt’s blessed out face. And could feel the grin that was almost splitting his face. ‘No fire hazards. Nothing got stuck. I’d call that progress.’  
  
‘I’m lying next to a bidet,’ Kurt groaned. ‘But yes, yeah. That was-- That was--’  
  
The door burst open. It was Puck. ‘Emergency!‘ he gasped. ‘Emergency, oh no, oh no, oh-- score, Hummel! Score! Now kindly fuck off, it’s an emergency. I gotta piss!’   
  
‘Wait, that wasn’t locked?‘ Dave covered his mouth in horror. ‘Fuck!’  
  
‘Yeah,’ Puck said over his shoulder, urinating to Kurt’s obvious disgust. ‘It’s also not soundproofed, so there’s that.’  
  
‘Oh, my God!’ Kurt said, dressing himself primly and trying to look suitably offended. Dave couldn’t help it, he nearly bust a gut laughing. Kurt shot him a cold stare but even he couldn’t keep it up. Giggling, he held out a hand and hauled Dave to his feet, Dave pulling up his own jeans. For a moment they stared at each other, as if seeing themselves for the first time.  
  
‘Seriously!’ Puck snapped. ‘Get the fuck out!’  
  
‘Oh, oh! Sorry!’ Kurt babbled, backing out of the room, turning with another glance at Dave.  
  
Dave followed, his legs shaky and his mind reeling. He had just hooked up with a guy for the first time. A guy that was Kurt fucking Hummel.  
  
As they made their way down the stairs, Dave found it hard to contain his glee. The people he passed gave him odd glances as he high fived them and pulled them into random hugs.   
  
Kurt reached the edge of the crowd and then stopped, looking back to Dave, his lip between his teeth and trepidation in his eyes.  
  
‘Hey! The cocksuckers are back!’ Blond yelled and if people were still fucking lame enough to have vinyl, a screeching needle would have signalled the party’s reaction. ‘You been busy?’ They mimed a sex position that was so chillingly accurate Dave wondered if there were hidden cameras.   
  
Nobody moved. Nobody spoke, All eyes were on him, since the comments were so obviously meant for him. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Blaine whisper to his date. He saw Hudson grab at Berry’s arm and haul her back. He saw Santana glare and hug herself tight, as Brittany watched her with concern.  
  
He saw Kurt.  
  
Just like Prom Night.  
  
 _Fuck this._  
  
Dave stormed away and a collective sigh sounded up behind him, the jerks from Big Mesa High cheering wildly. He heard mutters of support and grunts of disapproval but no one was doing anything.  
  
Kurt wasn’t the only one that was tired.   
  
Finding what he was after, he walked to it, yanking it up from its space on the speaker. After all the fruity shit they’d been playing this evening, they had to have it.   
  
They didn’t have it. But they had the next best thing.  
  
Dave clicked at it viciously, and adrenaline ran through him as the opening bars filled the room. Putting the iPod down, he turned back and headed for the dance floor.   
  
‘What the fuck is this music? Is it ABBA? That’s, like, assault!’ A voice whined and Dave kept moving, his eyes on the back of Kurt’s head, his slumped shoulders as he talked to Berry.  
  
‘Hummel,’ Dave grunted. ‘Can I have this dance?’  
  
Kurt turned and looked up at him, his face frozen in the disappointment it had previously been in. ‘What?’  
  
‘I said, dance with me, Kurt.’ Berry was staring at him. Everyone was staring at him and he didn’t give a shit.  
  
‘Okay,’ Kurt nodded slowly, then his expression turned giddy. ‘I’ll dance with you, Dave.’ Kurt slipped into his arms, a hand round his shoulders and   
  
Dave’s round his waist. Dave glared at everyone watching them. Daring them to say something. ‘It’s a fucking party. Dance, morons.’  
  
‘To  _this_?’ Hudson whined, earning an elbow from Berry. ‘I mean, okay. Okay.’  
  
Dave looked over at Blaine and Parker who were watching and looking a little dazed. Meeting Blaine’s eyes, they shared the barest of nods. Blaine smiled a little and pulled Parker onto the floor.  
  
‘What happened to blending in?’ Santana asked, sidling up to Dave, her hands round Brittany’s waist. She sounded calm and confident but Dave didn’t miss the way her eyes travelled the room, searching for judgement.  
  
‘That got old,’ Dave said, looking down at Kurt. ‘Blending in doesn’t get you anywhere.’  
  
‘No,’ Kurt agreed, his arms tightening around his neck. ‘It doesn’t.’ He stepped up onto tiptoe and kissed Dave chastely.  
  
‘That’s fucking dis—‘ Blond cut off as he realised that the dancefloor consisted of only same sex partners. Berry was spinning Quinn. Hudson was dipping Evans. Blaine’s forehead was pressed up against Parker’s chin, Santana was, well, going to town on Brittany’s face. Hudson nearly dropped Sam at the sight.   
  
‘What? Didn’t catch that?’ Puck asked walking back in, his arm around Chang’s shoulders. The blond shook his head and Puck nodded. ‘Thought so, come on, Mike. I’ll show you my Charleston.’  
  
‘I think you should leave,’ Tina said, crossing her arms and coming up behind them. ‘Unless you need us to show you the door.’  
  
‘What the fuck ever,’ the nasally one nasaled. ‘This party blows anyway.’ They moved out, dropping the full cups onto the carpet and smiling with spite. No one paid them any mind. Once they were out the door, Tina let herself be dragged onto the dance-floor by a giggling Mercedes.  
  
‘That was amazing,’ Kurt whispered, his lips ghosting against Dave’s neck. ‘Like a gay  _Spartacus_.’  
  
‘That was pretty gay already, but sure,’ Dave said, holding Kurt tighter.  
  
‘Do you mean this?’ Kurt raised his eyebrows to the ceiling. ‘This song, I mean.’  
  
‘They didn’t have  _Gimme, Gimme, Gimme_.’  
  
‘Dave.’  
  
Dave stopped moving and just stared down into Kurt’s face. ‘Yeah, I mean it.  _Gonna do my very best and it ain’t no lie_ ,’ Dave hummed into Kurt’s hair. He placed a gentle kiss on his head and then pulled back, grinning down at him.  
  
 _Best party ever._  
  
‘Promise me something,’ Kurt asked, his tone serious. ‘That no matter what this leads to, no matter what we become. That this will  _never_  be our song.’  
  
‘Oh, God, no! It’s fucking awful!’   
  


**The End.**


End file.
